


Line of Sight

by Anysia



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anysia/pseuds/Anysia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna’s not quite comfortable with being seen. Not at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Line of Sight

They’ve made love half a dozen times now, slow and soft, with a perfect frisson of impassioned intensity just at the edges, all curved hands and arched spines, warm lips in all kinds of wonderful, sundry places.

 

But Anna insists on keeping the lights low, and finds her eyes falling shut even when she’s not overtaken by stirrings of pleasure.

 

Kristoff never questions it — he’s indulgent with her almost to a fault, always willing and ready to provide anything she wants, and he mostly manages to keep the disappointment out of his eyes when she asks him to douse the lights.

 

"I just want to be able to see you," he says one night, after, lips pressed in a comforting kiss to the juncture between her neck and shoulder, "if you’re comfortable with it. You’re beautiful, Anna, I swear."

 

But Kristoff’s never been the awkward, graceless _extra_ , and Anna looks at his firm muscles, the delicious width of his shoulders, the warmth in his eyes, and she feels strangely, stupidly self-conscious. Everything about her feels small and inauspicious, and her hips are probably too bony and her breasts are little more than meager handfuls (although, she admits, it is delightful to feel Kristoff’s hands on her) and even when she tries (and oh, how she’s tried, swinging her hips and biting her lip and attempting to don the trappings of a coquettish vamp), Kristoff laughs, albeit warmly, and tells her how adorable she is, and it’s hard being firmly set in “adorable” when Anna wants so badly to be attractive, _desirable_. She wants Kristoff floored, openly lustful, desirous.

 

But she’s just… well, Anna. Cute. Adorable. Awkward. Nothing like the curvy, long-limbed, buxom women in the marketplace all the men seem to openly stare after.

 

(True, Kristoff always seems to very obviously have eyes only for her and her decidedly _un-_ buxom form, but, well, Kristoff is weird.)

 

Anna’s anxiety grows to the point that she even wants the curtains closed against the moonlight, wants to be wrapped around Kristoff only beneath the warm, protective shield of blankets, wants Kristoff’s face turned against her neck so he can’t see that her eyes are closed, can’t cast his eyes over what she’s sure is her somewhat lacking body.

 

Until one night, normal, unassuming, the same as always — Anna’s room is dark as Kristoff gently presses her back against the bed, his hands curved around her hips as he moves deeply within her, her head turned against the pillows, eyes shut, content to just feel, just…

 

"…Anna."

 

Kristoff’s voice is soft, gentle, and then his hand is curved around her cheek, tilting her face to meet his, his other hand slowly pushing the blankets aside.

 

Slowly, very slowly, with a tremor of fear curled tight in her belly, Anna opens her eyes.

 

Kristoff’s eyes are dark as they meet hers, heavy with desire, but soft and warm and fairly shining with love as he caresses her face, strokes one hand down her side, over the too-bony curve of her hip, the too-small swell of her breasts, and he looks at her like she’s the single most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

 

And in that moment, every ounce of fear she’s had dissipates like a fine summer mist.

 

Taking a deep, shuddery breath, Anna keeps her eyes on his and reaches up to press one hand to his cheek, lips turning up into a teary smile as he clasps it in his own.

 

She keeps her gaze steady on his as they move together, as they grasp and sigh and cling, until Kristoff’s lips are pressed firmly against hers, his fingers moving insistently between her legs as he trembles against her.

 

When she comes, his name on her lips, hers on his in an adoring, almost reverent whisper, Anna has never felt more beautiful.


End file.
